


Motivation

by marlee813



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Barebacking, M/M, Rimming, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-28
Updated: 2012-03-28
Packaged: 2017-11-02 15:55:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/370751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marlee813/pseuds/marlee813
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens once Zach gets his hands on him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Motivation

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically a sequel to a fic that creampuffsteph wrote over at livejournal called [Suspenders](http://creampuffsteph.livejournal.com/12736.html). It doesn't have to be read first to understand but it is a lovely story!
> 
> Also available at my [LJ](http://marlee813.livejournal.com/3619.html#cutid1)

Zach hears the unmistakable _snick_ ; the key catching on the lock and he feels his breath catch in his throat. 

It always gives Zach such a voyeuristic thrill knowing that he can hear someone in the realm of their daily life, completely unaware that he had situated himself directly in their path; if only they’d stop to notice.

It feels that way with Chris right now, and he’s been hoping to get the chance to do this since Chris had the audacity to go and leave something like _that_ on his voicemail earlier that day. It had had him practically sprinting to the bathroom, ignoring everything and everyone around him; the only focus just an incessant and lingering feeling of _Chris_ lodged in the back of his mind. 

He’d gotten to the bathroom in record time and without a moment’s hesitation had pulled his cock out; already hard and leaking. Just the mere thought of putting _anything_ near that delectable ass – that Chris had painfully reminded him of, in detail – had Zach biting back a moan in the sleeves of his button down, cock flushed and heavy as he jerked it; quick and dirty. 

The sound of something skittering to the floor and a mumbled _fuck_ brings Zach back to the present as he catches Chris rummaging around on the floor for whatever he had dropped. Zach can’t hold back his sigh as the object of his affection triumphantly locates the missing object and stands up, his features illuminated faintly by the foyer lights, casting his body in a wash of soft color.

Chris hasn’t seen him yet, and so Zach slowly moves his hand, teasing his semi beneath his jeans, replaying the voicemail over and over in his mind. _Feel you try and resist, even though your entire body knows it wants me_. His breath is coming faster now, rushing out of his mouth in stuttered gasps. Having Chris so tangible and real is doing nothing to assuage the fabric from twitching hard beneath the confines of his pants.

Suddenly Chris’ head snaps up, eyes narrowing in the dim light, eyes desperately roaming over his living room in an attempt to locate the sound. Zach rocks his hips up, his hard cock straining against his palm; this was always his favorite part. He’s been caught.

In a second the room floods with harsh light, both men squinting hard in an attempt to adjust to the assailing light. Chris’ eyes locate Zach’s across the room and his eyes widen comically before he dramatically grips his chest, muttering profanity under his breath.

“Jesus Christ, Zach! Warn a guy will you, you nearly gave me a goddamn heart attack.” Zach sees that Chris is breathing harder, his breath panting staccato notes in the lingering silence.

But Zach isn’t fucking around; this isn’t what he came here for. He wants Chris, on his knees, begging for his cock. Just the way he asked for it.

“Christopher,” Zach starts as he stands up gracefully and makes his way over to where Chris is still bent over at the waist clutching his knees in a weak attempt to regain his composure, “I got your voicemail.”

Chris lifts his head slowly, realization dawning bright across his beautiful face, blue eyes glinting mischievously. He slowly trails his eyes across Zach’s body and Zach can feel it, burning, scorching his skin in its intensity. He steps closer, chests grazing on the inhale; Chris’ fingers lightly skim over the fabric of the suspender straps before he pulls the fabric taut and lets go, the resounding _thwap_ against his skin has Zach’s blood boiling, pounding hard in his ears. Chris resumes his ministrations and Zach can’t help the pleasured gasps; every accidental slip of Chris’ fingers against his skin sends nerve-wracking shockwaves directly to his dick.

“Yeah?” It’s low, growly, and predatory and in an instant Zach feels as if he’s lost the upper hand. He’s helpless when Chris is like _this_ ; deathly still and strangely quiet.

“Yeah.” It’s a breathless whisper.

He licks his lips lasciviously and Zach has to resist the urge to do it for him; in fact he’s so distracted by the way Chris’ tongue laps at his spit slicked lips that it takes him a second to realize he’s being moved, Chris tugging lightly on the suspender straps as he drags him towards the nearest hard surface.

Zach feels his back hit the wall, the _whoosh_ of air escaping from his depraved lungs has Chris’ pupils dilating as he leans in to pepper soft kisses against Zach’s jaw. Zach tilts his head to give Chris more space as the kisses travel lower, teeth joining in the mix when Chris bites down hard at his pulse point; the bite stings, but the flat, rough tease of Chris’ tongue soothes the pain.

Zach wedges a leg in between Chris’ and feels the answering hardness as Chris ruts against him shamelessly, head bowed, flush spread high across his cheekbones. Zach reaches out a hand to touch his face and slowly maps out a fine line, tracing Chris’ cock sucker lips with the pad of his thumb.

“So beautiful.”

“ _Zach_ ,” Chris keens, pressing his impressive bulge insistently against Zach’s trembling leg; fervent and needy, “touch me.”

Zach surges up and grabs Chris by the shoulders, easily switching their positions. Chris cries out at the impact and Zach cranes his neck, fitting their lips together, the first touch hesitant, before Chris’ lips give and Zach licks his way into Chris’ mouth. Zach pulls back and braces his hands against the wall on either side of Chris’ head and teases the plush strands of hair with his fingers. It’s Chris’ soft spot, and Chris knows that Zach knows. The needy whimper that Chris chokes out has Zach slotting their mouths together again; Chris’ mouth is pliant and yielding, his tongue twisting expertly.

Chris breaks the kiss in his need for air and glances down, where his fingers are toying absentmindedly with the buttons of Zach’s top.

Zach hooks his finger under Chris’ chin, imploring him to _watch me_ as Chris deftly works the buttons of Zach’s shirt, taking care to leave the suspenders in their rightful place as he shucks the shirt; where it lands unceremoniously on the floor, forgotten.

Chris trails his fingers slowly up and down Zach’s chest, tracing the outline of Zach’s musculature beneath his soft creamy skin before tenderly rolling each nipple, each grunt Zach releases has Chris probing harder, until each nipple is a hardened pebble.

“ _God_ , Chris,” Zach whispers referentially, feeling a selfish need to reciprocate as he locates the hem of Chris’ shirt and practically rips it from his chest; the warm flush of overheated skin litters Chris’ chest and neck and Zach feels himself grow impossibly harder at the sight.

“Come _on_ baby,” Chris whines, “please.”

Something snaps inside of Zach then, and he growls low in his chest as he maneuvers Chris; flipping him roughly, his chest pressed flat against the wall.

Zach leans in, trailing his teeth down Chris’ ear before biting down roughly on the lobe. Chris’ hips buck wildly, desperately seeking friction. 

“I heard somewhere that you want my mouth, Christopher,” – Zach nips his way towards the back of Chris’ neck – “that true?”

Chris cries out a muffled sob, twisting his head frenetically every which way and he shoves his ass back hard. Zach takes the hint and palms roughly at each globe of ass cheek secured tightly in his jeans before reaching between his legs to forcefully palm Chris’ cock. He reaches his other hand around, scrambling in his haste to work the fasteners of Chris’ jeans open.

Zach slides the offending material from Chris’ body, noting with amusement that Chris isn’t wearing any underwear. 

Zach _clucks_ in the back of his throat, wordlessly demanding explanation.

“I came… came in my pants earlier, thinking abo… about your hands on me. Too lazy to change.” Chris’ voice is raspy and he’s panting; flushed cheek pressed to the wall. The image is almost too great for Zach’s heightened senses and he palms himself, the pressure just enough to stave off his impending orgasm.

“Jesus.”

The fabric pools at Chris’ feet and he steps out, kicking the jeans somewhere unimportant. Zach gracefully kneels behind Chris and pulls his hips, forcing Chris’ arms above his head, bracing against the wall. His muscles ripple from the strain and Zach shoves two fingers in his mouth in an attempt to stay focused on the task in front of him; laid out so deliciously.

He teases one wet finger down the crack of Chris’ gorgeous ass and ‘hmms’ in satisfaction as Chris squirms. He carefully spreads Chris’ cheeks apart, kneeling a little higher to draw figure eights in the sensitive spot between Chris’ back dimples with his tongue.

“Thought of me doing this to you when you left that filthy voicemail.”

“ _Yess_ ,” Chris hisses, pushing his ass back against Zach’s face.

Zach chuckles darkly, and trails his tongue lower, skimming over the pink dusky rim of Chris’ puckered hole before blowing lightly.

“Come on, come on,” Chris grits out, reaching between his legs to grab one of Zach’s straps, pulling it towards his eager body, “fuck me, come on.”

Zach nips harshly at the plump cheek of Chris’ ass before slowly wetting his fingers again, wasting no time in getting them nice and slick. He slowly teases Chris’ hole – ignoring Chris’ protestations – before sliding his forefinger in; each breach of knuckle around Chris’ hole has his knees buckling as he attempts to keep himself upright. 

But the slide is too easy, and Zach has to bite back his laugh as he realizes what that means.

“You’ve been fucking yourself again haven’t you, Christopher?”

“It’s all… all your fault,” Chris stammers, then mutters something which sounds suspiciously like _damn suspenders_. 

Zach laughs delightedly, the air brushing by Chris’ ass and his oversensitive hole. Zach leans in and licks around where Chris is stretched around his finger, before pulling his finger out and replacing it with two; it’s takes more of an effort, the stretch pleasant against his fingers and Chris screams, attempting to muffle his cries in his arm as Zach taps an unnamable rhythm against his prostate.

“Ah, Jesus,” Chris groans, “it’s too good… so good… mmm, you’re so good.”

“Shh,” Zach coos, Chris’ muscles seizing during a particularly hard thrust of his fingers.

Zach trails his mouth lower, watching with growing interest as his digits disappear inside Chris’ spit soaked hole. From this position he can see Chris’ face and it’s absolutely depraved; eyes closed, mouth open on a soundless cry, fingers twitching as he grasps for purchase against the wall. 

He licks Chris’ perineum, feeling him as he spreads his legs wider, his gorgeous dick heavy and full, his balls drawn and Zach can’t resist; he swipes his tongue over one, and then the other, before drawing them into his mouth.

“Baby,” Chris starts, gently caressing Zach’s hair where it’s located between his legs, “mmm… it’s enough, I’m… I’m ready.” The final part is a whisper, but it still sends Zach’s body temperature racketing up a few notches.

Zach releases his balls with a _pop_ , and gently extracts his fingers, standing slowly, limbs protesting as the blood rushes back. Chris whines at the loss, his hips searching, seeking, anything. Chris straightens and turns around to face him. Eyes intent.

Zach slowly slides each suspender strap down, as he quickly works the button on his jeans and he gets a sense of déjà vu - _the idea of those suspenders, hanging down as you unzip your pants has got me so hard_ \- so he removes his eyes from the task at hand to hazard a glance in Chris’ direction; he’s got his fist jammed into his mouth as he tries, and fails, to prevent the needy whimpers from escaping those bitten, swollen lips.

Zach can’t prevent his eyes from bulging as he sees Chris slink down to the floor, his beseeching eyes dark and blown as he quickly makes work of the rest of Zach’s zipper. He pulls Zach out, hard and angry red.

“Wanna taste you.” 

Zach’s hand instinctively goes to the back of Chris’ head as he flicks his tongue out, riding the slit with his tongue.

“Fuck,” Chris groans, lazily stroking his cock, head pillowed on Zach’s thigh, “you taste so goddamn good.”

Chris opens his mouth wide and envelops the head and Zach can’t help the impulsive thrust of his hips, Chris having to fist his dick to prevent him from pushing in too far; it’s ok though, Zach doesn’t wanna come this way despite how pretty Chris looks with his lips split open, stretched taut around his length.

Zach feels the all too familiar stirrings, his balls drawing up tight and he can’t wait anymore, he tugs on Chris’ hair, pulling him off his cock. 

“You’re too good at that,” Zach states, his hand tenderly stroking the sides of Chris’ face. He’s so fucking gorgeous like this.

“I know,” Chris says, eyes fluttering closed at the contact, nuzzling into his palm like a contented cat.

Zach tugs Chris to his feet, spinning them so once again Chris’ back is pressed flush against the wall. In one swift move he hauls Chris up, and he instinctively leans forward, bracing himself against the wall as Chris wraps his legs around Zach’s waist; his hands coming to rest behind Zach’s head, fingers carding slowly through his hair.

“Hi,” Chris breathes, leaning forward to kiss Zach’s nose.

“Hi,” Zach echoes, “tell me what you want.”

Chris mouths _fuck me_ and Zach obeys, slowly lining up his cock at Chris’ entrance, watching as Chris throws his head back with a shout as his cock breaches the tight ring of muscle. Zach has to resist the urge to sheath himself in one thrust, but Chris makes that almost impossible; rhythmically clenching his muscles against Zach’s dick.

“Stop. That,” Zach grits out, the stretch and burn so visceral he has to squeeze his pelvic muscles in order to prevent him from coming embarrassingly early.

“Come on Zach,” Chris complains, digging his heel into Zach’s ass, “no fucking around.”

They both moan, long and guttural as Zach slams himself inside Chris; Zach takes a second, resting his forehead against Chris’ chest. Chris kisses his hair.

“Move.”

And Zach does, pulling out tantalizingly slow before shoving his way back inside.

“This what you were hoping for, when you were fucking yourself thinking of me?” Zach asks, his fist loose and lazy as he strokes Chris in time with his thrusts, cock nudging his prostate in even strokes. Chris keens low in his throat and shifts his hips, using the wall as a brace as he helps fuck back down on Zach’s cock.

“Bet… better,” Chris pants out. 

“Gonne come for me?” Chris nods his assent, too blissed out for words, and Zach speeds up, rolling his hips as he leans forward to capture Chris’ lips in a vicious kiss; all teeth and tongue. Chris’ hands come to frame Zach’s face and Zach can tell he’s close; he tightens his grip on Chris’ cock and jacks him hard and fast. 

Zach feels Chris let go, his come streaking both their bellies and Zach’s fist as Chris cries out into Zach’s mouth. He goes pliant in Zach’s arms, his ass clenching painfully against Zach’s swollen dick as he rides through the shudders that wrack his body.

Zach thrusts one, two, three times and it’s too much; watching Chris come undone before him has him coming hard, his knees weak and he slides down to the floor, taking Chris with him.

“That,” Chris starts, “was fucking amazing.” He leans over and kisses Zach gently, bodies curling around each other, hands trailing over exposed flesh.

“Amazing, babe.” Zach agrees.

“One thing though. No more… suspenders… ever again.” He’s still a discombobulated heap on the floor; though Zach doesn’t fare much better. 

“Mmm,” Zach mutters noncommittally, not really agreeing or disagreeing, cause if Zach has _his_ way, he’ll be wearing those damn things A.S.A.P.

Fin.


End file.
